Avalon Rising
by Lastnights Regret
Summary: An ancient order is rising from the depths of history, how will this affect the war which is coming and those who fight in it? (Arthurian legend) AU
1. Chapter 1

A/N. This is my take on both the Harry Potter Story and the Arthurian legend. It will obviously be AU but it should for the first few chapters at least follow the Half-Blood Prince.

If anyone is interested I haven't stopped work on my other story, I just had this one in my head and wanted to see how it went down.

Chapter One: Avalon Rising.

When a person loses someone close to them it can cause serious problems but often we are able to rely on the support of our family and friends to help us through the hard times. When Harry lost his godfather Sirius Black there wasn't any kind of support from his family. Harry wasn't a stranger to death but it didn't make it any easier for someone to be so much a part of your life one minute and then be gone forever the next. Sirius was more than just Harry's Godfather he was in a very real way a link to his parents; he was a person who had known them intimately who had seen them in their shinning glory and at their lowest ebbs. Now since Sirius's death Harry had receded more than ever into his own shell, ignoring the countless messages he got from his friends and just wallowing in self-loathing. The nightmares wouldn't stop and the guilt wouldn't go, the names of those who had died because of him visited him every night in his dreams and left their marks on his mind.

His parents, Cedric Diggory, Barty Crouch Sr, and Sirius. They were just the ones that Harry could name as well he had no idea of how many had died in his name during the course of his life or how many would be destined to die, in either saving or protecting him. He hated himself for it happening but he know that, no matter what people would always sacrifice themselves when he was involved, even this school year he had taken a group of underage wizards into the Ministry its self because he had seen Sirius being tortured. He had put them in harm's way before he had even made sure that it wasn't a trap and he couldn't forgive himself for it and he wouldn't expect them to forgive him either, but he knew they always would.

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The few months following Sirius's death were some of the hardest that Harry had ever lived through. It had been his fault that Sirius was dead and no matter what anyone sad to him, his guilt never diminished or abated.

For Harry the worst part of it wasn't his relative isolation from the wizarding world, but the fact that now the ministry had finally admitted Toms return he had been reviewing a constant stream of condolence letters and letters which told him of the witch or wizards unwavering support throughout the ministry slander campaign. It was more than Harry could bare and after the first few letters he had refused to open anymore if it was brought by an owl he didn't recognise, the pile stacked up and grew larger by the day and before Harry knew it the nice neat pile had cascaded onto the floor and was now rapidly becoming a hazard which Harry would regularly fall over on entering his room for his trips to the bathroom or collecting his food for down stairs which his relatives begrudgingly gave to him.

Each night he would collapse onto his bed and wait for exhaustion to pull him into his nightmares. They were always the same, he would be in the Ministry again fighting against the death eaters and when all hope seemed lost the Order would arrive and the tide would turn. But then Sirius would be there fighting like a manic and grinning like a Cheshire cat, then Bellatrix would be there they would trade blows for a few moments but Sirius would let his guard down and be hit by a spell. The fall would always be the worst part because it always happened in slow motion, Sirius slowly falling through the veil with a look of surprise on his face. And Harry would wake up every night with tears in his eyes and guilt engulfing him.

But tonight was different before Sirius could fall through the veil someone stepped through it, this giant of a man strode through it confidently and locked eyes with Harry before walking towards him. The man wore deep blue robes with what appeared to be chain mail underneath, but Harry wasn't sure he had only ever seen some at the museums, his old primary school had sometimes taken him too. The Man stopped before him and spread his arms apart and raised his head to the ceiling_ "Jeg kaller deg Harry Potter til de eldstes råd. Vet dette Avalon er økende og det er behov for." _The man bellowed.

Harry woke with a start but not with his usual tears or guilt they were momentarily forgotten and replaced by a feeling of awe, but Harry didn't understand why. It had only been a dream so why had the mystery man provoked such a feeling in him, he hadn't understood what had been said other than his name and the word Avalon which rang a bell in the back of his mind but he couldn't think why. Quickly checking his bedside clock he saw that it was only four in the morning, looking up at Hedwig she was resting on her perch with both eyes closed. But as if she could feel Harry looking at her she opened one of her eyes and focused her golden eye down onto her owner.

Harry let a slight guilty smile creep to his face before he got up and opened up her cage; letting her step on to his outstretched arm he placed her on his desk before sitting down to write a letter.

_Dear Hermione, _

_I know you and Ron have been worried but please don't I am fine. Anyway just writing this to you to ask a question, have you ever heard of something called Avalon? I heard it yesterday and it's been in my head since then, I know that I know it from somewhere but I can't for the life of me remember. _

_But don't just think I am only writing to you for information (even if you are like an encyclopaedia) how are you and will I be seeing you when I go to the Burrow? Well if I go to the Burrow it happens so often I think I take it for granted sometimes that the Mr and Mrs Weasley will have me. _

_If your Writing to Ron tell him I'll send him a letter soon as well, don't want him to feel left out do I. _

_Love Harry. _

Harry stopped and looked over the letter, he didn't want to lie to his friends but he knew if he mentioned his nightmares they would never just leave him alone, and would force him to deal with them. That was not something he felt he could be dealing with right now. So he sealed the letter and turned to Hedwig who was waiting with her leg already lifted for him to attach the letter, he tied it on and was about to open the window when he said "Now girl don't take this straight to Hermione wait until she is at breakfast at least, and sorry for waking you again."

She gave a little hoot and jumped up to the window ledge before looking back at Harry's outstretched hand which would close the window after she left, moving quickly she gave his hand a slight nip as if to reprimand him for waking her up and then flew off before Harry could react.

Swearing softly to himself Harry wondered for the hundredth time if he would ever have Hedwig properly trained or just get used to getting reprimanded by his own owl. After rubbing his sore finger for several minutes, Harry crept back to his bed and lay down as quietly as he could. Sighing to himself he tried to get some more sleep because no matter how awful he felt, he would feel worse in the morning when he had to deal with the Dursleys.

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The Island of Azkaban was old, old beyond common reckoning. The Castles structure was whispered by some to be as old as the coliseum or even the pyramids, but the truth was known by none. In modern times the Wizarding world had taken over the island used it to keep captive the worst examples of human life there were. Murders and the insane were but a few who called this Island home, no matter how unwilling they did.

But the history of Azkaban was different from its current purpose, the castle stood as a shining example of righteousness and honour. Those who inhabited it were the greatest of the land, whose live where dedicated to the fight against the dark. The immortal warriors of the island slumbered deep in the foundations of Azkaban, sleeping undisturbed for millennia they were content in their slumber. That was until their lord arose again to lead them once more in their conquest and fight in the prophesised war.

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It was just a normal day for junior Auror James Stoker, walking his rounds of the prison making sure no one had been dead too long, or that any Dementors where paying to close attention to anyone prisoner. But today instead of the usual close feeling of terror which accompanied him on his rounds he felt almost normal. There were no bad memorise floating to the top of his mind or even a particular chill in the air which seemed to be a persistent feature of the prison. It was only with a glance out of one of the very few windows the James first noticed that he could see the sea. Now this may not strike a normal person as being unusual but for James's entire tenure as a prison guard not once had the eerie fog that the Dementors gave off relented, it obscured a person's view of their surrounding and made the island near invisible even on the clearest of days.

James was beginning to panic. The prison seemed to have plunged into a deathly silence and there were no Dementors to be seen. He rushed to the court yard and looked for other members of his team. He found them as he came hurtling out of the door way, literally falling over one person.

Scattered around the courtyard where the different members of his team, James could feel the icy grip of fear begin to claw its way at his soul. How hadn't he heard anything was the first thought which came to the forefront of his mind, he had only been up two levels and hadn't heard any calls for help or cries of terror. He quickly checked the body of a person near him, he tried not to look the person in the face in case she was dead and he knew her.

But he found a pulse so he moved onto the next body and then the next. All the people in the team where alive, none had their wands drawn or even had expressions of surprise on their faces. He was still kneeling down at the unconscious form of a colleague when he heard the heavy foot steps behind him.

Turning slowly he came face to face with one of the biggest men he had ever seen. Easily taller than 6ft the man was vast not just in height but width as well, he had the arms of weight lifter and carried himself with supreme confidence. Dressed in deep blue robes which didn't completely cover the shining chainmail he wore beneath, with an outstretched hand he pointed as James.

"Du hvilket år er det?" the man shouted. James felt the blood drain from his face, he was being shouted at by a heavily bearded man who spoke a different language and didn't seem like he would have any qualms about disposing of James should he prove useless.

"I….I…I don't under….understand you." James stammered out.

The man looked confused for a few moments and stood their silently obviously thinking. Finally understanding seemed to pass across the man's face and he stepped closer to James again.

"How about know?" the man asked gently. James mealy nodded in return.

"Well firstly what year is it young man. And secondly who is using this castle now, I'm guessing that the Norsemen have given up on this place."

"Its 1996 sir." James replied quickly. The man thought for a few moments and then began to talk quietly to himself which James couldn't help but over hear.

"Dam…Dam, the council will not be pleased about this." Turning his attention to James again the man stepped even closer than before, now leaving only an inched between them.

"You still haven't told me who is using this castle." The man said.

"The Ministry." James replied again.

"And the Ministry is?" enquired the man. Now it was James's turn to look confused, how this man could not know the year or had seemingly never heard of the Ministry of Magic was beyond belief.

"The Ministry of Magic of course." James said more confidently then he felt.

"Ah well send them our regards and tell them to not attempt at retaking this Island." The man said while raising his right hand to James's face.

"What do you mean retaking Azkaban." James asked.

"So that's what you called it, well tell your Ministry that Avalon is rising and are taking back what is theirs by the right of the council. Know this mortal I am the right hand of the council, their mailed first, the protector of our slumber and the champion of kings." The man said while placing his hand on James's face.

And with a loud crack James and his team where gone, and the man stood alone in the court yard. Silence now reigned but he could hear noises beginning to creep to his ears from his above him. Turning his face towards the open sky he began to speak in a loud clear voice.

"Be warned mortals, I am but a messenger of the councils will. You all will be judged for your crimes and foul deeds; the word of the council is law and shall dictate your futures. If you resist I shall end you, if you think our justice unfair I shall re-educate you and if you think you have any hope I shall destroy it." The man stopped and stretched his arms out to his sides.

"AVALON IS RISING AND YOU SHALL BE JUDGED." The man roared.

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The Ministry was in uproar, every department was on high alert and everybody was brought into work. The news of Azkaban was being suppressed for now until the situation could be assessed. Following the last twelve months of denial from Fudge he was fighting a losing battle to remain in control and part of that battle was once again relying on Dumbledore for advice, it had only took Fudge moments before he had sent an urgent owl to the ancient headmaster asking for him to come as soon as he could.

Dumbledore appeared in a burst of flames in the fireplace of Minister Fudge himself, lightly padding himself down to remove any dust or soot he stepped out of the fireplace. Twirling his long beard absentmindedly he stood patiently in the empty room waiting for the Minister to arrive. The owl which had summoned him had carried a very brief letter which hadn't explained the reason for his summons only that he should come quickly because his guidance was needed.

It was while Dumbledore stood thinking over the possible reasons Fudge would summon him that the minister entered his office.

"….get the major department heads here now." He shouted over his shoulder as he hurried into his office. Met with the smiling face of Dumbledore Fudge's mood worsened.

"For Merlin's sake Dumbledore this isn't a time to smile, don't you realise how serious this is?" Fudge snapped.

Dumbledore continued to smile as he replied softly "No Cornelius, I am not aware of the situation. You will recall that in your letter you did not specify a reason for my summons. So you can understand why my demeanour may not match your own."

Fudge opened and closed his mouth several time as if to make a reply but no noise escaped his lips. Straightening the bowler on his head Fudge rearranged his suit, then looking Dumbledore straight in the eyes to make sure he could see any sign of deception he explained the situation.

When Fudge finished talking he walked slowly and sat down behind his highly polished desk, leaving Dumbledore to stand near the fireplace. The old wizard was silent and had his head cocked to the side in thought, Fudge waited patiently. Which itself was a surprise because it was a well-known fact the Minister was not a patient man, but he hadn't detected any traces of deceit in Dumbledore's eyes, only surprise and shock.

Finally Dumbledore finished working things over in his head, the evidence didn't appear to add up. The Ministry assumed that it had been Voldermort who had captured Azkaban, but that wasn't his style he never stayed in any one place to long and never this openly. Also the Aurors who had been guarding the prison had been sent back alive and unharmed, even the muggleborn ones.

No this defiantly didn't feel like something Voldermort would do, Dumbledore had been expecting an attack on Azkaban because of the recent prisoners but not a deceleration of Voldermort intent to hold the prison as his base. Turning to Fudge again Dumbledore decided to see if he had any more information available.

"Cornelius is there anything else you have left out, anything at all no matter how odd or unimportant it may seem?" Dumbledore asked.

The Minister thought for a few moments before replying. "Well one of the guard was raving about something called Avalon and something about a mailed fist." Fudge said with a shrug.

Something in the back of Dumbledore's head was recognising something; at Fudges words the Headmaster was desperately trying to remember why these words seemed familiar to him. But every time he thought he was close to an understanding it slipped away from him like a forgotten dream. Knowing he would need more time and space to research he resigned himself to putting his thoughts on hold until he was able to better assess the situation.

Bidding farewell to Fudge he stepped into the fire and threw the floo powder into the flames. In a flash he was back in his office with the familiar song of Fawkes greeting him, he strode over to his pensive to see if he couldn't unravel this mystery.

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Please if you liked it review.

The Language which is used by the right hand of the Council will be explained, but some people may already have an idea why he is speaking it and what he says.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The Herald of the White Horse.

Because of Harry's relative reclusion from the magical world while he was at privet drive, he hadn't heard any news of Azkaban other than what his friends had told him. True to form Ron had barely mentioned it even though it was a huge event, while Hermione had written several pages on what she had heard and read.

While reading her letter and steadily growing more frustrated at his lack of first had knowledge Harry saw a hastily scribbled post script on the page he had still to read laying on his bed. Deciding to read it he threw his current page onto his desk and lounged on his bed to read.

_P.S I almost forgot about your own letter, sorry about that. Well I am not surprised you have heard of Avalon because it's mentioned lots of times in both the muggle world and the magical. I am a little disappointed that you didn't recognise it from our History of Magic lessons, but I have almost totally given up on you and Ron ever doing other than the bare minimum. _

_Anyway before I go off on a tangent, Avalon is the place where King Arthur was supposed to have been taken by Merlin. It's also where his sword was forged apparently; my dad is a bit of an Arthur fanatic so I am getting most of my information off him. I hope that helps you and please write again soon Harry. _

_Love Hermione. _

Harry laid back and rested his head against his thin cushion, thinking over Hermione's words in his head. She was right he did vaguely remember something about Avalon and it might have been from History of Magic but he wouldn't know because like Hermione said, Ron and he were prone to not listening and even falling asleep during Binn's lectures.

Resigning himself to ignorance Harry began to relax more on his bed, he could feel his eyes growing heavy and his breath becoming slower. Slowly he slipped into sleep and for a while at least it was peaceful.

Harry found himself in a dark circular room, the stone walls around him looked ancient and worn. It was freezing and Harry could see his breath in front of him, while he clutched his thin clothes tighter around himself. The wall in front of Harry began to move slowly upwards, leaving a roughly rectangular hole in its place. Taking a cautionary step towards the new dark pathway Harry reached out his left hand.

Before he could plunge his hand into the depths of the darkness a bright light suddenly shone in the distance, Harry could see the light coming closer and he quickly backed away.

Crossing the space to the opposite wall quickly Harry had his back flat against it, the coldness which seemed to radiate out of it only made him shiver more. He could feel the slow trickle of ice cold sweat running down his back, his fear growing with each second as the light grew closer and closer until it filled the once dark room completely.

Blinded by the light Harry covered his eyes but remained standing, he may have been frightened but he would remain standing and wouldn't show weakness in this strange place.

The light gradually began to recede until it was bearable for Harry to uncover his eyes again. He was met with the image of a man who was dressed similarly to the other man who had invaded his nightmare. This man was as tall as the other and dressed in mail covered by deep blue robes, but where the first man had been bearded this one before him was clean shaven and with a shaved head as well.

Behind the man in who stood in front of Harry stood a huge banner. Its dark blue background was the same colour as the man's robes, but on it stood a huge white horse rearing on its hind legs and with its main seemingly to blow in the wind.

The man stared resolutely ahead and didn't acknowledge Harry's presence, his colourless eyes seeming to be oblivious to his surroundings.

"You Harry Potter have been visited by the right hand of the council. You have been chosen to come before the council themselves, they will awaken soon and you shall be summoned." The man before Harry said without changing his expression of where he was looking.

"But I have no idea what you are talking about, and you must be having a laugh if you think I will come with some loon just because they ask." Harry argued.

The man's face turned hard before he replied. "You shall not talk of the council in such a manor again or action will be taken. As for the matter of what you will or won't allow, it was not a request. I am only here to give you warning as a courtesy, but for our hand and the consequences will be dire."

The harshness in the man's voice chilled Harry to the bone. The man turned to leave through the hole in the wall, but Harry quickly asked "Who are you and am I dreaming again?"

"I am the Herald of the white horse, the personal herald of the mailed fist of the council." The Herald said proudly. "And yes you are dreaming, but this is no lie you have been chosen and will be summoned. Hope that my master is swift and righteous in his current goals and all will be well." Continued the Herald, before he walked out of the circular room.

Harry was left alone with the banner which was slowly swaying on an impossible breeze, he slowly moved towards it ignoring the chill which he felt through his body. He could hear whispers as he drew closer and closer to the banner and finally just before he could touch it with his outstretched hand a booming voice rang out around the room.

"BOY….BOY…..WAKE UP BOY…" the voice roared.

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Harry woke with a start, raising his head from his pillow he could just make out the door of his room shaking violently. Grasping his glasses from his bedside table he shoved them roughly onto his face, jumping up quickly he covered the few steps to the door in seconds.

Quickly unlocking the door from his side he opened it up to see the red face of his uncle.

"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISION TO LOCK THIS DOOR BOY?" Vernon shouted.

"No one Uncle." Harry replied.

"Your dam right. Who do you think you are locking yourself away upstairs while the rest of us waste away from your idleness? How long has it been? Two months and you're still sat around sulking. You barely knew the man" Vernon asked savagely.

Harry fought hard to control his temper, and focused on how it would take a great deal more than him not cooking the Dursley's meals for a few weeks for them to waste away, but he held his tone and merely nodded.

"Now boy head downstairs and get tea ready. And none of your funny business today, your owl has been flying around outside for the last hour and you know what will happen if it continues." Threatened Vernon.

Vernon turned away and waddled down the stairs away from his nephew. Harry ran back into his room and opened his window so Hedwig would be able to fly right in. HE briefly saw her come through the window and drop and number of letters off on his bed, but he knew that he couldn't keep the Dursleys waiting so decided to read them later.

Descending the stairs rapidly Harry walked towards the loud grumbling he could hear coming from the kitchen. Sighing to himself he just hoped he could get through this meal and be done with his relatives for a few more hours.

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The Island of Azkaban seemed deserted to the outsider, but it was a hub of activity. Since the awakening of the Right Hand of the council preparations had been underway for his masters arrival. The ancient battlements had been renewed with magic and the foulness which had been the prisoners had been dealt with harshly and effectively.

The being known as the Right hand of the Council was pleased with how the work was progressing, more than a thousand years of neglect and misuse was being repaired and improved upon. The wards which had protected the ancient keep were already being reworked; an intruder or attacker would be detected five miles from the main keep. This would give the Right Hand of the Council and his Herald time to prepare the defences or send for aid.

It was half way through this construction that the wards faced their first test, at noon a week after the keep had been seized the wards sensed a dark wizard approaching. Reading his banner of the white horse the Councils right Hand moved to meet this foe.

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Traveling at high speeds a group of dark wizards where within throwing distance of Azkaban, their leader was at their head with his place white head bare against the wind and his cloak flowing as he flew without the aid of a broom.

The island grew nearer and nearer, the ragged rocks becoming more distinguishable from one another as they drew ever closer. The group slowed at the motion of their leaders hand and followed when he began to make his gradual descent.

Landing on a high outcrop about a mile from the prison the leader waited for his followers to kneel before him.

"Today we welcome back our brothers and sisters who have been so cruel treated by our world, instead of being lorded as the heroes they so clearly our, they are locked away and tortured. Called murders and psychopaths because they rid the magical world of the stain which are the muggleborns." The leader said in a high clear voice, which seemed at odds with the raging sea that surrounded the island.

Making his way through his kneeling followers the Dark wizard continued to speak. "Know that I speak the truth. I will free our comrades and together we will take this ministry and lead the world into a new age." The Leader roared triumphantly. His minions roared back their approval.

"I the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard alive will pluck my people from the depths of the hell called Azkaban. In doing so I will show the futility of opposing my cause and the inevitability of my triumph." The Leader added, when he had walked past his last follower he continued to walk slowly towards the keep in the distance.

A light appeared in the distance, a light so bright a person couldn't look directly at it. The dark wizards covered their eyes and even their lord lowered his so save them from going blind. When the light diminished there stood two men in deep blue robes, both with chainmail beneath their robes and their hoods drawn over their faces.

The bearded man who stood ahead of the other looked up first and pointed to the giant banner of a white horse being held by the other man. "Do you know what this banner represents?" asked the man in a voice of thunder.

"I am Lord Voldermort and I….." Voldermort started, but was cut off by the bearded man.

"I know who you are and why you come. But I asked you a question." The man snarled threw his curled upper lip.

"If you know who I am then you know your death is only moments away." Voldermort snapped back while reaching for his wand with unnatural quickness.

"It makes no difference to me if my death comes now or in a thousand years, I am a constant. As long as the Council lives there will be a right hand. Now answer my question or be gone, for what you seek is no longer here." Replied the Man calmly.

Voldermort raised his wand to strike the man before him down, but before he could utter or even think the words to end his life his wand drew hot. Hotter than a raging fire, so hot it blistered his hand instantly forcing him to drop it onto the wet grass beneath him.

Looking from his blistered hand to the man's impassive face in horror, Voldermort felt doubt clawing at his very soul for the first time in a long time.

"You come here to save your Kinsmen?" The bearded man asked.

Many in the group nodded, too afraid to speak after witnessing their lord's failure.

"Know this." The bearded man pointed at his banner again before continuing. "And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. Revelation 6:8."

Stunned silence followed the bearded man's words. Many before him didn't recognise the words which he had spoken but those who were not as pure blooded as they would have others believe felt fear and anxiety washing over them.

Voldermort was cast back into his childhood in the orphanage and remembering the fearful Sunday's which they were forced to spend in prayer. How the priest who took mass for them would wail on about how they were doomed to suffer forever in the eternal fires of hell, it had been one for the hundred reasons that the young boy called Tom Marvolo Riddle had transformed into the Dark Lord Voldermort who had conquered death.

"I am the white Rider, the right hand of the council, the mailed fist of their will, the protector of their slumber and you may call me Death." The man now known as death said savagely.

He turned to walk away from the group when a lone voice cried out. "What about my husband?"

Snapping around Death looked the woman straight in the face, her long blond hair and aristocratic features marked her as a Malfoy.

"Your husband has been judged and dealt with." He said quietly so only Narcissa could hear before raising his voice again for the rest of the group. "I will bring judgement on you people here; those found to be against the light will be slaughtered to the last man. But those who repent and thrown down their false idols will be forgiven."

Lifting his hand towards the group before him and death looked over the group again. A woman with wild black hair and an air of confidence was struggling against her neighbours restraining hands. Death walked over to her and placed a hand on her forehead, her eyes widened with hatred and her nostrils flared while she looked at his hand.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, you are a sinner but all are given a chance to repent and be accepted into the light. Your day will come and your judgment will follow with it." Death said gently. And with a moan escaping her lips and a huge crack which sounded like the earth itself tearing apart she was gone.

Narcissa screamed but was silenced by a wave of Deaths hand. Standing before the group once again Death moved his arms to cover all those before him and brought his hands together in a loud clap. With another almighty crack the group was gone, save Lord Voldermort who stood defiantly in front of the man who claimed the name Death.

"On this Island Voldermort I as God is in heaven. With a click of my fingers you would be no more than a boggy man to scare children with. I know you Tom; I know your darkest fears and deepest ambitions. I've seen you change from a boy to a monster. No are no more than a worm and you are not better than those you despise, Tom junior." Deaths face was blank and expressionless, while uncountable rage masked Voldermorts inner fear.

"But it is not my fate to defeat you, that lies with another and you shall meet him again soon." Death explained while placing his hand on Voldermorts oddly reptilian head.

"Avalon is Rising Tom, you best be ready." Death whispered as the Dark lord known as Voldermort disappeared from in front of him.

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The death eaters landed heavily onto the cold marble floor of the manor they had left from. Narcissa ran over to the prone form of her sister to check if there was any sign of life. She breathed shallowly but seemed to be unhurt, only unconscious but that would pass.

Voldermort was the last to arrive back at the Manor, his entrance no more grand then any of their own or more dignified. He fell heavily onto his back and lay still for several moments before standing up and glaring at his followers who knelt once again before him.

"I want that man dead, his killer will be held in higher regard than any other and stand as my right hand." Voldermort roared.

He stormed out of the room with his pitch black robes billowing behind him. His followers remained silent for moments before a cascade of noise descended, those most wanting to gain their lords favour setting off on their quest straight away. While those who's faith had been shaken the most departed to see to their families and make plans for the future.

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(This point of the story follows Cannon and I won't be writing out streams and streams of things already in the book so I'll just tell you where I pick up from.)

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Harry sat on his bed with the first rays of sunlight peeping through his close curtains. In his hand he held a letter which he must have read over and over again since receiving it. Scattered about him were the pages of the latest Daily Prophet, gone were the headlines proclaiming Dumbledore and himself mad. I there place there were notices of recent deaths or disappearances, even a few words on the new minister who had been chosen to replace Fudge.

At least some good has come out of this Harry thought to himself, before turning his attention back to the parchment in his hand. It was a letter from Dumbledore himself, he told Harry he would be coming to pick him up today and they would be traveling to the Burrow. But Harry would have to help Dumbledore with a special task.

He had spent hours thinking over what the task could be. Would Dumbledore be punishing him for his outburst a few months ago? Harry tried to ignore the nagging feeling of guilt which was welling up inside of him, Dumbledore had lied to him and it had led to Sirius's death.

That thought sat sourly in Harry's mind for what seemed like hours but could only have been minutes. Harry knew he couldn't blame Dumbledore for Sirius's death, in Harry's entire school life and even before then Dumbledore had only ever done what he thought the best. But it hurt all the more knowing that even Dumbledore the greatest wizard alive couldn't have changed what happened.

Sicking into an all too familiar depression Harry relaxed on his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling, watching the progression of the sun and waiting for the night.

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(Everything is the same from this point onwards until Harry and co go to Diagon Alley.)

The Ministry car pulled up smoothly outside the Leakey Cauldron, Harry and the others quickly got out and let Mrs Weasley quickly chatting to their driver. Walking through the door of the dilapidated building they were greeted by silence.

To Harry this was unfortunately normal, it seemed that almost everywhere he went in the wizarding world his entrance into a room would silence the occupants. But this time it was different for the first time in any of their lives the Leakey Cauldron was empty, not a soul in sight could be seen.

Tom the barkeeper rushed towards the noise of the door, finding himself looking at the surprised faces of most of the Weasley clan and the boy who lived he shot into action.

"Welcome Mr Potter. Would you like a table sir? I have our best available just for you." Tom quickly asked.

"Sorry Tom we only came to do some shopping." Replied Mrs Weasley from the back of the group.

Tom's shoulders visibly sagged, and he turned to walk back the way he had come. Harry seeing the look on the man's face felt sorry for him so said "Of course we could stop by and have a bite to eat on our way home though. Right Mrs Weasley?"

Seeing the look in Harry's eyes Molly nodded her consent, which made a large smile spread across Toms face.

"God bells ya Mr Potter." Tom shouted as the group left through the back door and entered Diagon alley.

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Harry had always held a fantasy image of Diagon alley in his head, ever since his first visit at the age of eleven. The worn cobbled road and its red brick buildings seemed like a world away from the busy urban London he was used to seeing.

Walking though the archway of red brick outside the Leakey Cauldron he was met with the empty expanse of Diagon Alley. Not bothering to look confused Harry trudge onwards into the street, the Weasley's followed closely behind talking amongst themselves. Harry could hear Ginny and Hermione having a conversation on where they wanted to head first, but he wasn't really that interested he just wanted to leave the Alley as soon as he could.

Its once bright and welcoming shops where replaced by the scorch marks of fire and boarded windows of empty shops. Only a few places seemed to be open, but Harry held out in hope that further down the Alley which couldn't be seen yet would be better off.

"Your brother's shop I think." Mrs Weasley said suddenly.

"You better behave yourself Ronald." Added Molly when she saw the mischievous smile he was directing at Ginny and Hermione.

Walking onwards they kept to themselves and ignored the various shady characters who offered them a huge range of products, some they claimed would stop anyone impersonating you others offered charms which would make you disappear even when it was impossible to apperate. They ignored them all even though Harry could see the huge amount of restraint Mrs Weasley was using not to hex each and every one of the lowlifes. It was just after the third time that Harry had told the latest schemer that he wasn't interested in a lucky rabbits foot, which would stop anyone cursing him from behind that he saw it the goblin bank "Gringotts." Harry said in wonder.

The fine white marble of which the bank was made of always shone and reflected the light no matter how dull the day seemed. But it wasn't the bank which caught Harry's eye now; instead it was the large crowd gathering before its steps. The individual wizards competing for space to gaze upon whatever was on the steps of Gringotts. Pushing his way through the crowd slowly Harry made his way towards the front of the crowd.

The disgruntled voices of those who he pushed passed where silenced when they saw his lighting scar. As he drew nearer Harry could hear the muffled voices of those around him talking about a banner, he paused when his eyes fell upon the white horse on a blue background. The banner from his dreams stood proudly and barely fluttered in the wind, Harrys mouth was hanging open in shock while a glazed over expression came to his face. Hermione and the Weasley's looked from one another and to Harry in concern, he had kept his disturbing dreams to himself and had almost forgotten them while staying at the Burrow.

A bright flash blinded the front rows of people who were gathered at the steps of Gringotts, when the light receded there stood two men on the steps with their heads bowed and hoods covering their faces. Many who were there screamed thinking that the two men where death eaters, but before any more panic could spring up the man closet to the crowd spoke.

"The days of your darkness are over. No longer shall your wickedness be permitted, you shall be brought willing to the light or I will drag you kicking and screaming to your redemption." The man said in a powerful voice.

The crowd was silent and seemed to be rooted to the floor, no one could move even if anyone of them could have they wouldn't so engrossed in the man's words. Lifting his head the man lowered his hood revealing his long blond hair, his face was scarred and battered and his eyes shone but had no colour. The man stroked his long beard before speaking again.

"Harry Potter step forward."

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Ok so that's it right now, this was going to be longer but I think I haven't uploaded for two weeks?

Thank you so much to my brilliant beta GoldMagic89 A.K.A Elmo, she is great and I forgot to mention her in my last chapter so I am sorry.

Thank you for all the favourites and to my review from Don.I am the King. If you like the story or have something you would like me to hear or anything please review or even pm me.


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